In the blackness of the night, it took him a moment to locate the source of the breeze: the gaping mouth of a grotto, less than a dozen yards away. The cave opened into the base of a rugged peninsula, a stony bluff that rose straight out of the Sea of Silt. From Agis's perspective, its sheer cliffs appeared to stretch clear to the sky, but the noble knew better. Earlier that night, as Kester had poled the skiff across the dark bay, he had seen a ring of lofty ramparts crowning the summit. The walls stood twice as tall as a giant, with flying turrets at every bend and jagged crenelations capping the entire length. Agis motioned toward the shadowy cavern. “This one looks small enough,” he whispered. “Let's see where it goes.” Nymos raised his narrow snout and sniffed at the draft, then a shudder ran down the entire length of his serpentine neck. “That wouldn't be wise,” he said. “There's a dreadful odor inside.”
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